Those Who Wait
by ktfranceebee
Summary: Kurt gets cold feet. Literally... Complete. Oneshot.


**Those Who Wait**

 _by ktfranceebee_

A soft clatter, the word _shit_ being hissed through gritted teeth, and the sound of something being set down with a muted _chunk_ … that was what caused Kurt to blearily open his eyes and attempt to take in his surroundings. A glowing window was before–or, rather, to the right of–the bed he was in. On the opposite side of the window danced snowflakes, falling softly like ticker tape as if the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade decided to arrive almost a week prematurely. He had to remind himself that his own bed was situated under his window rather than adjacent to it as this one was. The thought of waking up in this unfamiliar environment should have brought upon intense anxiety, but instead he felt an immediate, drowsy sense of peace that had nothing to do with the late–or _early_ –hour as he watched the fat flakes of snow flutter past the frosted glass.

Though he had couldn't help but consider the possibility of rearranging the layout of his own bedroom in a way that mimicked this one, he knew his relaxed state had little to do with Feng Shui.

Not realizing until now how cold he was, he shivered and tucked his bare arms under the thick comforter to warm them. A foreign, and not to mention low, thread count and some varying striped shade of blue or black, but familiar in the lingering smell of cheap, but not at all unpleasant, body wash. Kurt began to snuggle deeper into the toasty depths of the mattress, nonplussed at being the only current occupant as he heard a set of careful, slow footsteps coming from behind him.

"Will you be coming back to bed anytime soon or are you still busy making a mess?" Kurt mumbled, a sleepy unseen grin playing upon his lips. "I mean it _is_ your apartment, but my feet are cold and could use some warming up."

A beat and Kurt turned over in bed to make sure he hadn't merely imagined the footsteps when his joke was met with silence.

"I…" Kurt blinked at the man's dumbfounded countenance from where the hazel eyes stared from the threshold of the bedroom. As if Kurt hadn't been there moments before when Dave had crawled out of bed.

Dave Karofsky coughed into a fist, and if the room hadn't been so dim save for the orange glow from the street light below Kurt would have believed Dave's chest and face to have turned a fierce shade of red.

"I wanted to kick the heat on and put on some pants… Since it's so cold in here." He shyly scratched the back of his head before adding, "and I may have knocked over the bottle of lube in the process."

Kurt snorted, and hid the lower half of his face under the covers as he watched in amusement at Dave looking like a stranger in his own apartment. Kurt realized quickly and with a hint of sadness Dave's motives as his eyes searched Kurt's, looking for any signs of regret, anything that could tell him that the events that transpired earlier that evening were something that could not be repeated. Kurt pulled the comforter below his chin, the smile concealed from before nipping any such notions in the bud before they could bloom into hideous thoughts.

"Get back in bed before you freeze, David. I won't be able to sleep laying next to a popsicle."

Kurt couldn't believe it possible for Dave to be much cuter, but then his mouth curled into an _o_ in surprise before his chin fell to his chest in what could only be a relived chuckle.

"So that's all I am good for, huh?" Dave grumbled with a smirk as he treaded back to bed. Kurt rolled over once more finally appeased. "Keeping you warm?" He felt the mattress dip as Dave slipped back into the bed. A pair of socked feet brushed against his bare ones.

"I can think of a few other things," Kurt retorted coyly as his wiggled closer into the curve of Dave's larger frame. A weighty hand came to rest on his waist as Dave's breath tickled the hair upon the back of his neck.

"That so?" Dave asked, his deep voice still gravelly with sleep, sending a shiver up Kurt's spine. His question could only be met by the unintelligible mumble-slash-giggle indicative of Kurt's contentedness.

As their shared breaths evened out in the stillness of the night, Kurt could feel the arm curl around his waist a little tighter as if _he_ would be the one to slip away in the middle of the night. Like a snowflake drifting passed the window only to melt with the first rays of morning sun.

"I…" Dave started, the hand twitching against Kurt's skin. His voice was hesitant as though the silence of the night was glass he didn't dare wish to break. "This thing we…"

"Dave," Kurt cut him off gently, pulling his hand to his lips to graze the knuckles that once, many years ago, threatened to injure, but now comforted, held, and healed. So many years wasted. How silly they both had been.

"It's about damn time," Kurt said seriously, this time. He could hear Dave's exhale and with the hand that wasn't holding onto Dave's, carded his fingers through the man's soft hair as Dave's lips brushed his cheek.

Like that year's first snowfall that they watched until both their eyes drifted close, they knew then that everything happened in its own time, but, also, that the best things in life came to those who wait.


End file.
